Bringing Up a Hasidic Generation

Mitzvah Girls: Bringing Up the Next Generation of Hasidic Jews in Brooklyn
By Ayala Fader
Princeton University Press, 260 pages

Unlike most books, which I approach with an objective eye and mind, books about Hasidim instinctively arouse my jaundiced cynicism. My cynicism is justified: nearly every article or book or film about Hasidim gets it wrong. Most of these works are informed by presuppositions and stereotypes, and tend to overuse/misuse kitschy “Jewish” expressions. Furthermore, they focus on the formal, ritualistic aspects of Judaism that do not epitomize actual down-to-earth Hasidic life as Hasidim know it. What a pleasure, then, to be so thoroughly “disappointed” in Ayala Fader’s Mitzvah Girls. Fader’s research is impeccable, her information is accurate and presented through an objective lens, and the emphasis is on the mundane, real aspects that make up Hasidic life.

In Mitzvah Girls, Fader attempts to accomplish dual objectives: to discover how and why Hasidic girls become Hasidic wives and and mothers, and to explore the role of language in the life of Hasidim, specifically from a gender perspective. The two intentions keep interweaving throughout the book, making for some interesting tidbits. For example, in a chapter entitled “With It, Not Modern,” Fader relates her bewilderment at the precise meaning of the word neb. The explanation provided—if everyone’s wearing her hair in a bob and one girl wears it in a ponytail, she may be considered a neb (or nebby)—says as much about the meaning of the word as it does about Hasidic girl life.*

The book starts with a brief history of the Yiddish language. For Yiddishists the information may be old hat, but most people, including people whose primary language is Yiddish, are unfamiliar with the basic details. Next are some notes on Fader’s transcription methods, followed by an Introduction to the book. The introduction is fairly lengthy, which is why Fader presumably made it a combination Intro/Chapter One. Besides explaining her methodology—standard fare for scholarly book introductions—Fader includes a fascinating overview of Hasidism, especially postwar Hasidism. Her language is a bit too academic (occasionally stilted) for readers not used to reading scholarly texts, but that issue is rectified in the rest of the book, which features accessible, engaging language.

Fader spent years as a participant and observer of the Bnos Zion school and Bobov community. Her thoroughness is apparent in her descriptions of the delicate nuances that most outsiders never get. Is talking about Mickey Mouse underwear taboo? What effect does the B.Y. Times book series have on Hasidic girls’ lives? Of course, she also allots plenty of space to the overall behaviors, attitudes, and speech that comprise general Hasidic life. How are certain biases subtly inserted and contained in the lessons taught to girls in school? At home? In the girls’ marriage lessons?

Although most of the book is devoted to the life of a Hasidic girl from birth to teens, an entire chapter focuses on becoming a Hasidic wife. It includes the significant phase of finding a shidduch and the actual kallah lessons themselves. Fader, herself a bride at the time, albeit a secular one, managed to sit in on many of these lessons. Her observations as an outsider are respectful, yet honest. She neither derides nor romanticizes the Hasidic marriage system, not an easy feat to accomplish.

What I personally found most noteworthy in this anthropological study is that Fader did not presuppose that Hasidic women are subjugated and/or mistreated and/or second class within Hasidic society. Because she approached her investigation from the social, non-formal angle, she was able to grasp the varied strengths a Hasidic girl’s position holds. Her observations, therefore, boast an accuracy rarely found in studies with less depth.

For anyone interested in an objective exploration of Hasidic life beyond the synagogue and study halls, especially the life of a girl/woman, this book is a must-read. Plus, you’ll learn the meanings of the words shtotty and yunchy.

* Another explanation provided is that if there’s a discussion in class and a kid makes an attempt to say something humorous, but nobody laughs, she’s kind of a neb. This explanation is accurate, of course, but I chose the above description because it highlights the expected conformity of Hasidism, even for something as trivial as hairstyle.

Ruchy Fiedler, a Hasidism and modern literature buff, likes dissecting all things Hasidic and literary. She is the author of the blog Hasidism and Literature. Her work has appeared under various pseudonyms, one of which is Ruchy Fiedler, in various print and online journals, one of which is Unpious. She lives in a Hasidic community with a husband, children, a china closet, and no dogs.

One very small point of critique: Your footnote, on the matter of bob vs. ponytail, states: “…it highlights the expected conformity of Hasidism, even for something as trivial as hairstyle.”

Hairstyle (or any other symbol or signal of social belonging or social intelligence) is indeed trivial, but only to the outsider–one of a different age, gender, community, etc. It’s far from trivial to the people involved. It isn’t only amongst Chassidim that children and teenagers (adults, too) take very seriously things like “with it” vs. “neb” (or “clueless” or “loser”) hairstyle.

Coincidentally, there’s an article in my local paper today about a woman who executed a citizen’s arrest on the classmate of her 13-year old son–because the classmate, in a class exercise involving the use of scissors, had used the scissors to snip a chunk out of her son’s unusually long hair. And they were boys!

Conformity is, indeed, more extreme in the Chassidic community than in larger society–but I think the example of schoolgirls being hyper-aware of “in” and “out” hairstyles is so universal as to not effectively highlight any special degree of conformity in the group under discussion.

Again, that’s a very small matter. Overall, I enjoyed your substantive review.

Martin O'Neil on April 25, 2010 at 12:39 am

Because she approached her investigation from the social, non-formal angle, she was able to grasp the varied strengths a Hasidic girl’s position holds. Her observations, therefore, boast an accuracy rarely found in studies with less depth.

Film-makers often romanticise Hasidism, the crime being that they do so without intelligence. This anthropologist does so too but, with subtlety and aptitude it seems.

I have not read the book, although it seems I ought to. Thank you for this.

RuchyF on April 25, 2010 at 12:46 am

Michael, you’re right; conformity is the norm among most teenage groups.
Martin, Fader does *not* romanticize Hasidism. Did my review give the impression that she does?

Martin O'Neil on April 25, 2010 at 9:36 am

Do our women hold a variety of strengths and one-upmanship over men? Yes, in some aspects, but in most aspects they do not.

Reminds me of those “living with remote tribe XYZ” TV documentary’s, which invariably end on a similar note, that haggard and overworked women really do have clout, and who are we observers to judge.

RFiedler on April 25, 2010 at 9:52 am

Martin, it’s obvious you haven’t read the book; please do so before commenting. Fader does not make any claims on the power/powerlessness of women in daily life. I simply said that unlike most people who allow presupposed stereotypical attitudes to inform their opinions, Fader seems to have stripped herself of those (or perhaps never had them) in order to get the true picture. It would be nice to debate the issue you’re talking about–I disagree somewhat with what you’re saying–but it’s not at all the point I was making in my review.

RFiedler on April 25, 2010 at 9:54 am

That should have read, “Fader does not make any claims regarding the power…”

Ruchy! This piece reads like a really professional review! It definitely got me resolved to read the book. Also it gives me a much better appreciation of your “Pans in Rage”. Since I’m something of spiritual junkie, I can’t wait for your prose version of “Cleave”:)

BTW- Did you read “Mystics, Mavericks n Merrymakers”? While I understand that there are vast differences bet. Chabbad/Crown Heights vs Bobov/Borough Park, I’m curious if you have any comparative observations re general view of Chassidim portrayed in these two books.

RFiedler on April 25, 2010 at 4:03 pm

Quasi: “Ruchy! This piece reads like a really professional review!”
Er, isn’t Unpious a professional online journal?

Re Mystics, Mavericks. Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten around to reading the book, though I’ve heard some good things about it. If I read it, I’ll try to review it here.

J. on April 25, 2010 at 5:09 pm

Great review. After finishing the book, I felt like I would have liked to have heard a bit more about what the author made of the communities she was describing. She makes a remark about sharing her city with non-liberal people but that’s about it. I understand that it is a work of anthropology, and not opinion, but maybe she could have written a separate piece on the topic.

RFiedler on April 25, 2010 at 5:25 pm

J, did you read the coda? I found it very informative, especially the caveat to anthropologists: Don’t harm the people you’re studying. Even if Fader formed really negative opinions about the Bobov community or Hasidism in general, writing such subjective opinions would, I think, fall under the “hurting your people” category. And the book would certainly lose anthropological credibility.

J. on April 25, 2010 at 6:34 pm

Ich her – but I think she could have written about it sensitively in a different forum – perhaps she has/will. I’m sure her opinions can’t be one long dirge of negativity – it would be interesting to hear from an engaged and critical secular person who actually has ‘a bissele havono’ what she thought – but you’re right, it’s takke an andereh avoideh.

Todd on April 26, 2010 at 12:50 am

An excellent review. My only reservation is with “Because she approached her investigation from the social, non-formal angle, she was able to grasp the varied strengths a Hasidic girl’s position holds. Her observations, therefore, boast an accuracy rarely found in studies with less depth.”

Personal and social has its strengths and can yield great insights. But there’s a lot to be said for the formal anthropological approach. If nothing else, an overly insider’s perspective can cause a researcher to adopt the blind spots and assumptions of the culture under study. It’s a difficult balancing act, and many really good researchers have gone off the rails in both directions.

Egg on June 19, 2012 at 2:17 pm

Oh, man. I read so many books claiming to be various versions of “tell-alls” and “authentic” “behind-the-scenes” explorations of Hasidic life when I was writing my thesis, and I have to say this book is one of the few that really does a cultural study of Hasidism justice.

Also, what I really appreciate about this book,as you pointed out as well in this awesome review, is that it actually DOES offer a pretty non-biased viewpoint. A lot of times authors can’t help but throw in some personal jugdements and opinions on Hasidic life, especially when ladies are involved. What I found so refreshing about this study was that it pretty much just told you the facts and left the interpretation up to you. Which, when you’re writing a thesis, is pretty essential. I’ve waded through so much just…god-awful writing/books on Hasidism, and let me tell you: this book got it right.